Still Point

There's no still point
the whole world turns
each point within it
either spins about another
or all revolve about an
external point not found
at or in the middle
but out, beyond
where no thought lies
and not to think
of stability or
in-stability, no
point beyond the point
or within the point within;
rather no points at all:
then we're free to welcome in the
other whether he or she
from any realm or point may come--
in all their multiplicity--
single, one, persistent
tendering hope and
forgiveness that we should search
within or without for that
which in itself is place.

Rather look full-face into
the other haunted there
as we answer back a
caring kiss with
caring kiss and in the depth below
what else to know
where else to be?

Riding the emptiness

Of all those around me, I think that I am closest to Silken in heart. She is to me much like a blood sister. Often I end up spending more time with the kaiila than I do other humans and find I miss her more than any other.

I was excited when I found her at the fires though I was a bit leary of the bota she carried. I know her heart aches with the absence of Shi. I still remember telling him that if he hurt her, he would have to answer to me. For all of my fluff and bluster I know that probably will not come about. I have to admit I do not understand men or their ways. I am angry with him for not being there for her.

Instead, Silk and I rode and talked. We rode across the emptiness, hoping to find the other side. I wanted to help in some way even if it was just to make her mad enough to feel something. I needed her too though I kept what troubled my heart to myself.

We watched the sunset on kaiilaback and set up camp on the outerskirts of the harriga. The move would begin in the morning but for this one night ... we had each other and the world did not seem quite so vast or lonely or even so far away.

A break in the clouds

One thing that both the head of the kaiila clan and I agree upon is that the skies and the plains often seem to have a plan of their own and many times we, the people that inhabit them are merely intercessors in something greater than ourselves. The rich red roan had come to me quietly without fanfare. She shied around humans and kept to herself. I worried at times that she would not be strong or courageous enough to survive the harsh environments of being part of the herd or for that fact ... the Tribe. I spent time with her when I could training, teaching her the commands that would protect her owner's life, help her become one with whomever the sky chose as her keeper.

The most notable of the kaiila's traits was that she was talkative in a kaiila kind of way. She always had some input. A pruffed huff, a keening scree or sometimes just a lift of head to the sky itself to whinny adding her own two coppers to whatever was going on in her head. Then she would let out a long winded wistful sigh. No matter how many times I witnessed the one sided conversations, I was always amused. Still, each time one of the other handlers came near she would back from their touch with her head down. She would have no part of any of them and many times not even I could get close if she chose not to allow it.

I ran my fingers through the silken fur letting them sink into the depths of the beautiful wintering coat. From a distance Ulita looked a rusty brown but up close like now, her pelt shimmered a rich blood red hue that would set to motion with a ripple of muscles and appear to dance in the breeze.

It was on a warmer morning that I took her for a ride along the banks of the stream. Already she responded to the low whistle but today the finer movements of the reins would be taught to her. We happened upon a woman near the bank. One that the kaiila greeted as if they had been long lost friends newly reunited. I slid from the saddle and turned loose the straps, watching as the creature sauntered over next to the woman and began digging up little gifts .. kaiila style to give her. Grubs. sand spiders and all. There was little for me to say except that Ulita was hers. The skies seemed to smile as the warmth of the sun's rays heated the small spot we attended.

A strange introduction to the young haruspex but one that will remain warm inside for a long time. I liked Noelani from the first moment I met her. She wanted to return the generosity with some gift of her own. I did not know how to explain. I had not given the gift .. my only part of it would be the walk home. The rest was the will of the plains. The will of the sky herself.

While I walked the banks of the stream returning the way I'd come. I will look forward to meeting the woman again, perhaps to ride across the plains together. It is a new friendship just as the kaiila seemed to be. I couldn't help but smile and think of the rain the woman had spoken of. It was a clear blue sky but when they clouds gathered it would be a refreshing sip to a thirsty soul.

It is a good day to be Tuchuk.

COLD

Was it much of a surprise, the reception upon attending the fires? Not truly. Perhaps there was something inside that had hope it would be different after all this time. "Tribe before all" Do those words only mean what everyone expects from others but not what they themselves are prepared to give?

Long before Ramza had spoken for me as his mate, there had been no warmth among those of the people. It is how it feels. Several times now I've made my way from the herds to visit the main fires. It is the same no matter who is there. There were a few gathered. Old faces, new faces. I've tried to tell Cana and Ba'atar congratulations on the birth of their child, the upcoming birth of another and his stepping forward to lead the tribe. They do not acknowledge that I've spoken. Many faces I no longer see about the fires at all. Some I look for with anticipation. Prospects walk away disrespectfully. I guess it took me aback that Jai was short spoken with me. Beside Silk, he was the only other person I felt was a true friend. He made it clear there is nothing we have to talk about. The circle closes and I feel like I look upon it from the outside.

I'm tired. I'm touchy. I'd hoped for someone to talk to. Not to pour out troubles but merely to have conversation with. How are the bosk? We all remember the last move north. I think it still runs through our veins. We all remember the division of the tribe and the disappearances of many of our people during the last move south. I think everyone is tired. Evereyone is touchy.

Fonce had told me before he removed the ring of steel from my throat .. "Life goes on" There was age old wisdom there. None the less, the Tuchuk are my family and I will stand with them through what comes, but I find my happiness with the warrior that loves me, with the silken furred creatures that have befriended me and the children that clamor around our wagons following my mate.

Soon we will begin the move north again. There has been fewer word of Me Too in the last moon. Whenever there is chance, I ride to the outposts to gather news. I still do not want to believe he will not return. Ramza always has patience with me and welcomes me when I return with open arms and the quiet words of how much he has missed me. I miss him as well though this drive inside to find the boy ... I ... I
All that I knew is gone. Fonce, Me Too.

If there is chance before the drive north, I want to make one more ride to the outer perimeters. I do not want to go north leaving one behind. The omens. The Omens have changed as have my dreams. I want to whisper to the winds, to ask if they could bring favor .. just this once. But it is a selfish wish. I want my family to be whole again.

They are all I have.

More from Nette mun

I'm back ... at least on a limited and temporary basis.

I wanted to take a moment to offer my sincerest appreciation to those that have been so supportive. Your whispered words, the long distant phone calls even when they were late at night, of concern, of encouragement, the simple "hang in there's" and the "miss you's" have kept me going. From the bottom of my heart ... Thank you.

A special gratitude to Ramza mun for his sympathetic patience. You are one of a kind, hon.

For those that aired their greivances loudly and publicly of how much time my character spends online, I'd like to say gracefully and elegantly ... I'm glad you missed me :actually thinking to self ... SOD OFF:. I'll be here when I be here. Count on it.

To each and every one, know that you are loved and adored. Never forget that.

From Mun of Nette

I forwarded an email to one of my daughters that had a clip at the bottom that read ...

'Life's Journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting, ' Ohhh... What a Ride!! '

She replied immediately with the following.

"These days I am all about smiles, bumps, laughs, giggles, scratches, tears from too many times down the slide with funny faces.

I have came to realize a few things,
one - life holds tons of laughter,
two- don't hold back, unless it will intentionally harm another,
three - this life is beautiful

I will slide in sideways, screaming wow that was great, I wanna do it again, I just hope others have had as much fun as I have, and to most people's dismay I do remember my age. And I do not care."

A simple request from all of you to please keep us in your positive thoughts.

Don't forget to hold a loved one close and tell them you love them. Love heals more than the most modern of medicines.

Thank You

Thief

I never meant to be so bad to you
One thing I said that I would never do
One look from you and I would fall from grace
And that would wipe this smile right from my face
Do you remember when we used to dance
And incidence arose from circumstance
One thing lead to another we were young
And we would scream together songs unsung
It was the heat of the moment
Telling me what your heart meant
You cant concern yourself with bigger things
You catch the pearl and ride the dragons wings
~Asia

Still Life

Well I'm not uptight

Not unattracted

Turn me on tonight

'Cause I'm radioactive

Well there's not a fight

And I'm not your captive

Turn me loose tonight

'Cause I'm radioactive

Oh yeah, radioactive

Don't you stand...stand too close

You might catch it

Don't stand too close, baby

Radioactive Oh yeah

~The Firm

In my spare time, I weave reed baskets and trade them here and there for small things. Its relaxing and gives my hands something to do while I sit on the platform of my wagon in the eves. Ramza usually trades for the majority of them though what he needs so many for I don't know. All I can say is I have plenty of meat, spices, a deep storage pit, my wagon stays painted and repairs are always seen to. You can bet I am always gathering reeds to make more baskets.

I will never forget the night I was settled in next to the fire at the Midnight wagons with a lap full of reeds, watching the sun set in all its wondrous hues. I'd been thinking of the past season and perhaps wallowing in my miseries when I felt a pair of hands grasp me up, dip me back with such graceful ease, one would have thought we were ballroom dancing. In my fury and half scared from my wits, wide eyed daze, I was staring up into the face of that same warrior .. who was looking down at me grinning. Before I could react much, he merely leaned in to drink full from a stolen kiss.

Did he think he could ... he could ... just touch me like that ... kiss me like that? Did he think there was any chance he would get away with it? I managed to wrestle enough from his half his grasp to catch up one of the copper pots near the fire and swung it right at that hard headed ... big bosk headed ... hard head. I scored well on that first strike. He simply took the pot from me with a casual ... ow ... that hurt. Incensed more than ever now, I started gathering whatever came to my grasp and began hurling them at my assailant. Every curse word I knew in three languages came hurtling with every throw while the man began weaving to dodge the onslaught. It just happened that with the last of my arsenal, I decided to throw left when Ramza darted right. The connection toppled him face forward with a crack in that thick skull of his.

He is such a jokester at times, I figured when he didn't get up it was just a lure to get me closer. Then I realized he wasn't joking. I grabbed my medical pack and raced back to see how bad the damage was. My heart nearly stopped when I saw the trickle of crimson marking a rivulet along the side of his face. So much for that promise never to draw blood from another Tribesman. I lifted his head to my lap, and began tending the wound and feeling really bad about having been the one to cause it. He opened his eyes with that same ear to ear grin and wrapped his arms about my waist. That merely got him a new swat and an admonishment to stay still. Two stitches later, all the man could say was ... 'You are beautiful'.

'Ah well You ... look like hell at the moment', was the retort I threw back at him, then slid from under his head letting it plop back to the dust with the sound of thumping a ripe melon and hearing a new howl of ... oww.

My rage, frustrations and admittedly now extremely confused emotions stormed my boot treads right up the wagon steps, carrying me under the flap to safety. I just stood there within the closure trying to catch my breath and maybe a bit of sanity. That will teach him. Yes, indeed, that will teach him won't it? I peeped back out to make sure he was gone except that ... he wasn't.

There he was still stretched out, lying right next to my fires with his boots crossed lazily and his hands tucked beneath his head, simply smiling at the stars. I couldn't help reaching up to touch the warmth I still felt at my lips. That was when he caught me staring at him and called out .. 'Dream of me tonight Nette'. I slapped that flap closed with a snap and a growl.
Did I mention he was a bosk headed ... stubborn ... bosk headed Tuchuk? Still !!

Hope

Heres to us one more toast and then well pay the bill
Deep inside both of us can feel the autumn chill
Birds of passage, you and me
We fly instinctively
When the summers over and the dark clouds hide the sun
Neither you nor Im to blame when all is said and done
In our lives we have walked some strange and lonely treks
Slightly worn but dignified and not too old for sex
Were still striving for the sky
No taste for humble pie
Thanks for all your generous love and thanks for all the fun
Neither you nor Im to blame when all is said and done
Its so strange when youre down and lying on the floor
How you rise, shake your head, get up and ask for more
Clear-headed and open-eyed
With nothing left untried
Standing calmly at the crossroads, no desire to run
Theres no hurry any more when all is said and done
~Abba

It was one of those lanquid days that naturally drew one to the stream. I'd been walking the banks letting my palm skim across the top of giani-tail willows simply to set them to motion. Apparently I was not the only one to take advantage of such a lure, I found Silken there perched on the bank fishing.

About the same time I started to speak she hooked an unusually large one that came sailing through the air to land smack dab in the middle of my chest. It made me all wriggly too, trying to get a good hold on the creature. Since the woman doesn't eat the watery beasts, we made a trade. Wily would clean and fillet the fish and bring them to exchange for vulo. My pens had become quite prolific. More than once I muttered in passing the feathered things telling them it was not fair they got more errrr 'excitement' than I did and they had multitudes of little feathered things to prove it.

I was pointing at her line where she got another bite while we talked and yes pointing is rude unless you're fishing, then it is mandatory if someone's line goes under. It surprised me that it was Shi that had to bring meat for Silk's wagons since she hadn't had time to hunt. I was glad he was looking after her though. I was glad to see the smiles nd the laughter from the healer as well. It had been far too long since I saw that beautiful face light up. Somewhere deep insde it seemed criminal that it was not always shining with happiness and the joys of life. Iffn ya don't laugh, ya cry. Those words hung in the air and I wanted so much to be able to pluck them out and crush them between my fingers so they would not hold any truth.

A shadow fell across the stream and when we looked up it was Seth riding in. His approach came with ten other men. Just one look said something was terribly amiss. Come .. Jort has fallen in battle. Word was sent to the camp of where we were going and Silk drew me up on the back of her mount. Enu hurried to gather medical packs and off into the horizon we rode as fast as we could.

The outpost was a scene of chaos that our arrival seemed apart and distant from. Fifty dead, one hundred wounded. I slid from the mount and began tending what wounds I could. The drawn look of grief I saw on faces everywhere was haunting to me though none of it seemed to touch my own soul. I knew none of these people except that some were of Tuchuk blood and that one among them had pulled Silk through many dangers. For that he had gained respect in having saved the friend I now stood beside .. a sister.

Flames from the pyres rose diminishing to plumes of smoke and I watched for a while. The fallen warrior's woman stood close to Seth and Silk and I couldn't help noticing .. how frail she seemed against the backdrop of the plains. Then .. Seth was gone. I think it was anger that he left as he did that kept my tongue silent on the ride back to camp. Right or wrong, it will be a long time before I forgive him. I knew Silk's silence came from the grief she herself would let no one see.

It was the quiet conversation on the steps of her wagon when we returned that I mulled over for a long while afterward. It takes a special kind of woman to survive here among the plains. Before I returned to my own wagon to wash up, I drew the woman into an embrace, perhaps because she needed it, perhaps because I did.

She is one of those special kind of women and knowing her gave me strength to be one as well.

When I rounded the end of the Midnight row ... Sage was standing there with Orachu. I lit up at first with excitement then screamed and sank to my knees with the weight of dispair. I was still whispering a mantra when he carried me into the wagon. Please dear skies let their be hope ... hope .... hope.

Full Circle

The world keeps on getting smaller and smaller
And everything comes back full circle, full circle
Six degrees of separation
We all know someone else
It all comes full circle
~No Doubt

It was simply one of those treks through the wagon rows from one point to another that I passed one of the year keepers. They are an amusing lot to me, so serious much of the time. Time. It is their pasion as kaiilas are mine. As if drawn from some deeply profound enlightenment he stopped long enough to study me, study my face, the lines that form along my mouth and the corners of my eyes as if he put the moment to memory. It caught me so off guard that I simply stood there for a few ehn before finally he spoke.

"It has been four full seasons" At first I was wondering what had been four full seasons and was still staring at the back of his head when he continued on where ever he had been going in the first place.

Then the whole notion caught up with me.